


the garden below

by bitterbeets (ginnydear)



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F, Florist Jon, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prince Tommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnydear/pseuds/bitterbeets
Summary: oh, to be a bored prince turning down marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener boy, who may or may not be leaving you flowers.





	the garden below

**Author's Note:**

> based on a tumblr post that was too cute not to write an au on. 
> 
> i truly don’t know what time period this is supposed to take place in so let’s call this historically inaccurate. 
> 
> please don’t share this outside fandom circles.

The chamber doors close with an echoing thud, a finality to the days events, and Tommy slumps against them, head hung between his shoulders. Across the room, his best friend chuckles. 

“Buck up, it could not have been so horrible,” Lovett says from his spot at Tommy’s writing desk, top button of his formal shirt undone. Tommy reaches up and undoes his as well, beginning the arduous task of taking off his formal attire. 

“She cornered me in the hall,” Tommy says as he lifts his suit jacket off, replacing it on it’s hanger. Lovett gasps from where he’s sitting. 

“Gutsy, cornering a prince in his own castle,” Lovett says with a smirk. “I quite like her.”

“No you don’t,” Tommy chuckles, finally undoing the buttons at his wrists. He pushes up the sleeves for only a moment, as he undoes his shirt and takes that off too. He stands, in the middle of his chambers in an undershirt and trousers, and sighs. 

“It must be so tough being the crown prince,” Lovett teases him, bringing him back to reality. Tommy scowls at him but laughs nonetheless. Filling a glass with water, Tommy walks over to the window next to his writing desk and looks out at the garden beyond. It’s wellkept, bright and vibrant, and his eyes search the paths for a moment before settling on the fountain in the corner under the flowering tree. 

“Must be so tough to be his best friend,” Tommy mumbles. “Ah, to be the son of a Count.”

“It’s quite difficult, I’ll have you know. I have to listen to the Prince whine about turning down marriage proposals,” Lovett says as he swings in the chair, turning to face Tommy. He frowns at him. “Do you think you’ll ever say yes?”

Tommy’s quiet for a moment, eyes darting across the garden to where the gate’s opened and one of the gardeners has walked in. He’s flanked by one of the guards, who’s carrying a large pot of dirt. They’re talking quietly enough that Tommy can’t hear, but he can hear them laugh when the guard says something to make the gardener laugh. As the guard sets the pot down, the gardener looks up towards the sky. He’s smiling, which shows off the slight gap in his front teeth, and Tommy backs away from the window a bit when his eyes move along the castle wall. 

“No one’s really quite caught my attention,” Tommy says, and he thinks he hears Lovett mumble something to himself. Tommy doesn’t bother to ask. 

\--- 

The garden had been something the Queen had taken great interest in, a pet project of hers that had eventually been handed off to a trusted group of florists, arborists, and their teams to maintain. It’s been outside Tommy’s chambers his whole life, and gardeners have come and gone over the years. 

A little over four months ago, the longtime gardener had retired, and a day after the large retirement party that the Queen had personally put together, the new gardener had shown up outside Tommy’s window. 

He’s apparently the son of the last gardener, and the Queen had personally asked for him. When asked, she’d explained that he was an even better florist than his father, and he created the most beautiful bouquets that frequently made their way into the Queens chambers. 

It’d been two months prior when Tommy had finally learned his name, as he brought a new bouquet of flowers into the castle. Tommy had been in the sunroom when one of the servants had let the man in, directing him as to where the Queen wanted the flowers. When the servant had apologized for interrupting Tommy, he’d shaken his head and introduced himself. The gardener had bowed his head, almost mumbling his name. 

“Jonathon Favreau, sir,” he’d mumbled, looking up at Tommy through his eyelashes. 

“Please, I can’t be much your senior,” Tommy had joked, and Jonathon had laughed. 

The servant had ushered him from the room before Tommy could think of anything more to say. 

\--- 

Coming home after two days of horse travel is one of Tommy’s favorite experiences, but it’s made even better when he finds a new flower on his writing desk. 

He drops his bags inside his doors, closing them quickly and hoping the King doesn’t want to continue their conversation before dinner. He picks the stem up, staring at the little white flowers that look like small bells. They’re sweet smelling and delicate, and without looking, he knows they don’t grow in the gardens below his window. 

Placing the flower on his nightstand, Tommy picks up the book he keeps there and cracks it open. He finds the most recent flower, a beautiful blue flower with yellow streaks, and removes the tissue he’d placed there days ago. He gets a new piece and places it back around the flower, knowing it won’t need any more tissue to dry it out. In a few days, the new white flowers will join the other flowers in his book. 

“That’s six,” Tommy says to himself, smiling softly. 

He’s not sure who, or even why, but the flowers have been appearing in his room for the past two months. They show up after trips, and never seem older than a day. The oldest one had been a wilting sprig of lavender, found when their trip had been delayed by a day because of bad weather. 

He has yet to tell anyone, even Lovett. He doesn’t know how to explain this without raising some kind of alarm, but he knows whoever is leaving these gifts mean no harm. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but he simply knows. He doesn’t feel the guards would take his word at that. 

\--- 

Spring is high when the next suitress arrives at their castle. 

Tommy actively avoids the fanfare of her arrival, climbing out his bedroom window and landing with a thud in the garden. His father had spoken to him at length the day prior about how there weren’t many suitresses left in the kingdom, and that Tommy needed to start taking these proceedings seriously.

As Tommy ducks through the bushes to the tree in the corner, he thinks of the talking to he’s going to receive after this. 

He’s up in the tree in an instant, hidden among the branches and leaves. There’s flowers all around him, so he settles back against the trunk and picks one, thinking of the flowers left in his chamber. 

He’s picked a dozen flowers and is working on making them into a crown when he hears the garden gate open. He nearly drops the flowers in his hands as he looks through the leaves and spots Jonathon, large brimmed hat on his head and a box full of new sprouts to plant. Tommy looks around for the planting area and groans when he realizes it’s right below the tree. 

Jonathon’s humming to himself as he walks over and places the box on the ground. Tommy watches with baited breath as he grabs a few gardening tools from nearby and then finally sits down in the dirt. 

“Now, who’s going in first,” Jonathon says, and Tommy feels his chest flutter as he realizes he’s talking to the plants. “I think the impatients would like to go first.”

He chuckles to himself and Tommy bites his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. He leans forward on the branch a bit as he watches, the tree creaking slightly. Jonathon stops moving and Tommy hurries to hide back in the branches. The branch he’s on makes a cracking noise, though he doesn’t fall, and that’s when Jonathon stands up below. 

“You there, what are you doing? Come down right now! Don’t make me get the guards,” Jonathon says loudly, though his voice cracks twice. When Tommy looks down at him, he can see his hand grasped around one of his tools. “I said now!”

“Alright, pardon me,” Tommy says as he climbs down the branches, and when he touches the ground, he watches Jonathon’s face flush in abject horror as he realizes who he’s just yelled at. 

“I am so, so sorry Prince Thomas, I did not know it was you-”

“Please, don’t apologize,” Tommy says, reaching out to pacify Jonathan as he panics. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I should have made myself known when you entered the garden. Please, don’t panic.”

Jonathon stares at him for a moment, his eyes still wide and his cheeks as red as the roses on the south wall. The grip on the gardening tool he’s holding lessens and his shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes are now on the ground. 

“I am sorry for threatening you,” Jonathon says, and Tommy shrugs. 

“You had every right,” he says quietly, and he hears Jonathon laugh softly. 

“Did you need something from the garden, Prince Thomas?”

“No one calls me Prince Thomas,” Tommy says, and he sees Jonathon blush again. 

“You told me not to call you ‘sir’, Prince,” Jonathon says, grinning a bit. He’s not looking at the ground anymore, though he’s still not making eye contact. 

“I’d much prefer you call me Tommy over any royal title,” Tommy says as he fiddles with the half made flower crown in his hands. Jonathon looks at him then, as if he’s been given permission, and smiles. 

“Did you need something from the garden, Tommy?” he asks, and Tommy bites down on his bottom lip to control the smile that wants to split his face in half. 

“Not anything particule, Jonathon. I was simply hiding in that tree when you found me,” Tommy explains, gesturing to his previous hiding spot. Jonathon frowns, walking over to look up the trunk at the branches. 

“And attempting to make a flower crown, I see,” Jonathon says with a smile, gesturing to the flowers. Tommy shrugs, holding them up pathetically. A couple of the flowers had been harmed on the climb down from the tree. 

“I don’t think I have enough. I also forgot the technique Taylor showed me years ago,” Tommy says, and he watches in fascination as Jonathon’s mouth twitches, his eyes going soft. 

“I could teach you, but with a better flower,” Jonathon offers, already moving away from the tree and towards the other side of the garden. Tommy follows, heart fluttering as Jonathon leads him to the daisy patch. “These are perfect for crowns, as I’m sure Taylor knows.”

“They’re what she taught me with,” Tommy confesses, watching as Jonathon picks a handful of flowers, leaving the stems long. He hands them over to Tommy when his hands are full and starts again, cleaning out an area of flowers. 

“I’ll fix it later,” Jonathon says, gesturing with his head for Tommy to follow him. He leads him over to the fountain, sitting on the edge and laying the flowers at his feet. Tommy leaves some space between them as he sits. 

“Are you sure you have time to show me? You have sprouts over there,” Tommy says, but Jonathon shrugs. 

“The day is young,” he replies before picking up two daisies. 

Tommy’s just starting to remember the hand movements when he hears one of the guards shout his name. They both jump as noise starts to take over the grounds, and a guard sticks their head out Tommy’s window. 

“Oh no,” Tommy says, dropping the flowers in his hand and hiding behind the fountain. Jonathon is watching him with wide eyes, a little panicked again, and Tommy feels bad as he realizes he has to run. 

“I’m so sorry, but I have to run. Thank you for the lesson, Jonathon,” he says before ducking his way through the garden to the side gate. As he’s fumbling with the latch, he hears Jonathon shout behind him. 

“Most people call me Jon!”

\--- 

The King doesn’t yell, at least not when guests are in the castle, so Tommy’s saved from that kind of punishment for the time being. He makes it through dinner by the grace of God, as the suitress Hanna is actually delightful. She and Taylor talk for most of the evening, and Tommy finds himself joining their conversation without hating it. Not the worst dinner he’s ever had. 

When he returns to his chambers, he closes the door behind him and lets out a deep sigh. His father had threatened to put protections on his window to keep him from climbing out again, but his mother had talked him out of it thankfully. When he sees the flowers sitting on his writing desk, he sends a silent ‘thank you’ to her again. 

When he walks closer, he realizes it’s not a single flower, but a chain made into a beautiful crown. And not just of daisies, but other flowers Tommy doesn't know the name of. The entire crown is beautifully colorful and crafted. Tommy stares at it for a long time before he places it on his head. It’s a perfect fit. 

He hangs the crown on a hook near his desk, his stomach a field of butterflies as he realizes who’s been leaving him flowers. 

* * *

Dan’s waiting for Jon when he walks up to the garden gates the next day. 

“Good morning, Dan,” Jon says, hoisting the sacks of fertilizer higher on his shoulder. Dan smiles at him, holding out a hand to take one of the sacks. Jon hands one over gratefully. 

“How is the garden?” Dan asks as he follows Jon inside, taking a deep breath of the fragrant air as the gate closes behind them. Jon leads him over to the patch under the tree, where he spent the afternoon prior planting all new sprouts. Dan eye’s a patch of missing daisies as Jon replies. 

“It’s coming together! Papa left it in good shape, though there were some parts that needed help. I’ve been experimenting with which plants to put next to each other, and finding combinations that enhance flower growth. It keeps the bees happy, which is helping helping the hive,” Jon explains slowly, distributing fertilizer among the flower beds as he talks. Dan goes in behind him with the watering can and gives the beds a good soak. 

“I hear you had a bit of a ruckus yesterday,” Day says with a grin, and Jon blushes to the tips of his ears. 

“I didn’t hear any ruckus.”

“One of my guards tells me a certain Prince was hiding from his duties in the garden with you. They had to chase him down out near the horses,” Dan continues, watching Jon carefully. 

“Did they? I didn’t see,” Jon says, shrugging. Dan shakes his head, sitting down on the foundation's edge. 

“Uh-huh, and pray tell what type of flower you last left in the prince’s chambers?” Dan asks, smirking as Jon stumbles and drops a large clump of dirt onto the path. He sighs as he kicks it into the nearby plants. 

“A crown, actually, of multiple flowers,” Jon confesses softly, looking at Dan out of the corner of his eye. Dan’s eyebrows come together. 

“For the prince?”

“He was hiding in the tree and had forgotten how to make them -”

“In that tree?”

“Yes that tree, and he forgot how to make a flower crown so I was showing him when the guards started looking for him. He ran off before finishing, so I left him one,” Jon says in a rush, voice barely louder than a whisper. Dan’s eyes are wide when Jon meets them. 

“How daring of you,” Dan says with a grin. 

“He told me I could call him Tommy,” Jon says softly, and Dan’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he stands up, adjusting his uniform. It’s hot in the garden, even in the shade, and Dan wipes his forehead before he speaks. 

“The newest suitress is here.”

Jon sighs. “I know.”

\--- 

It’s common knowledge that the garden is a work in progress in early spring, which lends Jon and his two helping hands a bit of privacy to get things in order. The Queen even lets them set a ‘grand opening’ day for when she can come sit amongst the flowers. 

So it’s no surprise that it’s a bit of a mess when the garden gates open and a young woman with dark hair walks in, followed a few seconds later by Tommy. 

Travis spots them before Jon does, sharing a look with Emily before he walks over to where Jon’s attempting to remove some thorny weeds that have taken hold beneath one of the flowering bushes. 

“Sir, the Prince and his suitress are here,” Travis says softly, and Jon lets out a pained groan before he extracts himself from the bush. There’s leaves stuck in his hair and dirt on his cheek, and Travis grins at him as he reaches up to help remove everything. It’s as Jon’s scrubbing the dirt off his cheek that the young woman walks around the corner, smiling when she spots them. 

“Are you the keeper of this magnificent garden?” she asks, looking right at Jon. He nods, his cheeks warming as Tommy walks around the corner as well. “I am truly in awe, you’ve done a magnificent job.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jon says automatically, but the woman shakes her head. 

“Please, you’re older than I. Please call me Hanna,” she says, curtseying slightly. Jon bows his head and smiles at her. 

“Thank you, Hanna. You’ve come at a time when things aren’t yet blooming, so I do apologize for the messiness,” Jon begins, but Hanna shakes her head again. Tommy’s watching them closely, and Jon can’t read his expression as Hanna walks over to Jon. 

“On the contrary, I quite like a garden in progress. My mother used to let me help the groundskeepers in spring, and I quite enjoyed learning about plants. Would you mind if I joined you?”

“Joined me in… planting and weeding?” Jon asks, blinking as Tommy walks up behind them. 

“Hanna, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t be happy to find you helping,” Tommy says, and Jon bites his lip as Hanna rolls her eyes. 

“My mother isn’t here, plus there’s nothing going on! Unless you’re against getting your hands dirty, in which case we can leave,” Hanna directs the last bit at Tommy, who shakes his head. He starts to smile then, and Jon feels he’s missing part of a joke. 

“Only if Jon needs help,” he says gently, looking right at Jon. His face is carefully blank, but when he meets Jon’s eyes, his eyes soften a bit and his mouth turns up in a gentle smile. 

“We can always use some help in the spring,” Jon replies, offering what he hopes is an easy smile. There’s a definite knot in his stomach that doesn’t alleviate when Tommy looks away and follows Hanna over to where Emily is separating sprouts. 

Once they’re out of earshot, Travis sidles up to Jon, nudging him slightly. Jon looks at him and frowns, but Travis keeps nudging him until Jon cracks a smile. 

“Buck up,” Travis whispers to him. Jon snorts. 

“Thanks.” Jon waves Travis off, shooing him back to his corner of the garden. Jon still has more weeds to dig out of the bush in the corner, so he watches Emily and Hanna talk as though they’ve known each other for years. Tommy catches Jon’s eye, pulling a face, and Jon chuckles before he walks off to continue his work. 

With Travis and Emily in charge of planting new flowers, Jon can spend his time hidden away under the tree, clearing out the old brush. Pulling on his gloves again, Jon takes a deep breath and heads behind the tree. There’s enough work there to keep him busy and possibly distract him from the anxiety in his chest. 

He tears the brush out of the ground with a little more vigor than normal. 

\--- 

According to Travis, Emily and Hanna hit it off and get along fabulously, so it’s not nearly a big of a surprise when Hanna shows up the next day and offers to help again. 

Jon’s still working on his mess in the corner, so he lets Emily and Travis do their jobs without supervision. He’s knee deep in a pile of leaves when Hanna appears through the branches, a smile already on her face. It’s hard to dislike her when she’s so happy and lovely. 

“Hello Miss Hanna,” Jon says with a smile, and she winks at him. 

“Hello Mister Jon, why are you hiding here in the corner?” she asks, pushing her way through some of the piles of dead plants he has to take out. She’s wearing proper trousers today, with high boots usually meant for equestrians.

“I’m not hiding in the corner,” he says with a laugh, gesturing to the piles. “I’m trying to clear it out as I don’t think my father ever cared much about this corner.”

“Your father recently retired, yes? And the Queen asked for you to take over for him?” Jon nods, and her eyes widen. “That’s a high honor!”

“It was very exciting. It’s a lot more work than I’m used to,” Jon admits, picking up a pile to carry out. Hanna follows his lead and grabs some brush as well, going with him out the side gate to where he’s set up a cart for the rubbish. When she’s done, Hanna looks up towards the castle. As Jon turns on his heel to head back, Hanna grabs his arm and jerks her head up. 

“He’s always looking,” she says, and Jon looks up to see Tommy sitting in his window, eyes trained on the gardens below. A familiar warmth rises on Jon’s cheeks, and he knows Hanna catches him when she squeezes his arm. “The past two times I’ve found him in his chambers, he’s either been fiddling with some flower crown or staring at the flowers below. Quite defensive over the crown.”

“Hmm,” Jon says, avoiding her eyes. She still has a grip on his arm, but she loosens her hand after a moment and chuckles. 

“You know, I don’t think the prince is quite interested in me.”

“Oh, uh -”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m not that interested in him either, if I’m honest with you.”

Jon looks at her, eyebrows raised, following her lead as she begins walking back through the gate. Her mouth is pinched, and she stops under the tree, hiding them from view of anyone not in the garden. 

“No, I think you and I have something in common,” she says, looking through the flowers and leaves to where Emily is shaping a bush along the path. Jon smiles. 

“We both like blondes,” he says softly, and she laughs so suddenly her hand comes up to cover her mouth. Her eyes sparkle as she shakes her head. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” she chuckles, fixing her hair. Jon looks over and watches Emily work for a moment, thinking about his closest friend. 

“I’d say you have a decent shot,” he tells Hanna. She grins. 

“I’d say you do as well.”

* * *

Lovett’s already pacing the length of Tommy’s chambers when Tommy finally returns from talking to his parents after the final dinner of the week with Hanna. When the door closes, Lovett stops and looks at Tommy. 

“You’re going to turn her down, aren’t you?” Lovett asks, and Tommy sighs. He takes off his suit jacket and replaces it on the hanger, a tried and true routine of his that he’s rather tiring of. As he’s taking off his shirt, he notices something on his writing desk. As Lovett continues to pace and mutter to himself, Tommy walks over and picks up the flower. 

It’s two tulips, one yellow and one purple. Tied around their stems is a bow of delicate ribbon. When Tommy picks them and brings them to his nose, they smell especially honeyed and like fruit he finds in summer. 

“What’s that?”

Tommy yelps in surprise as Lovett walks up behind him, eyes glued to the two flowers in Tommy’s hand. As Tommy tries to come up with a response, Lovett points at him and moves to the window. 

“The garden! I knew it!”

“What?” Tommy hisses, pulling Lovett away from the window. Lovett’s glowing now, like he knows the world's best secret, and Tommy feels his shoulders tense. 

“The garden, all of that longing staring you do, the fact that you’ve been reading more books on flower meanings!”

“How do you know all of this?” Tommy snaps, and Lovett rolls his eyes. 

“I’m your best friend. I think it’s my job to know when you’re smitten with that cute gardener,” Lovett says, his voice a little quieter now. He looks at the flowers, raising an eyebrow. “And apparently, he’s smitten with you too.”

“How - what - I’m.” Tommy stops and takes a breath. “What?”

“Yellow tulips. Tulips being the flower of love, the ultimate symbol even over roses. Yellow the color of longing and hopeless love.”

“How do you know this?”

“I know how to read. I learned around the same time you did-”

“Lovett!”

Chuckling softly, Lovett pulls Tommy away from the window. He sits down in the desk chair and waits for Tommy to plop down on the bed to speak. 

“You haven’t been very subtle,” Lovett says as a start, and he holds up his hand to stop the inevitable argument Tommy has. Taking a breath, Tommy nods at him to continue. “Just the other day you said none of the suitresses have captured your attention all while staring longingly at the gardens below, and when I looked out the window later, who should be down there but that very handsome gardener. Jonathon, right?”

“Jon,” Tommy says automatically, and Lovett raises an eyebrow. 

“Well, at least he and I will already have the whole ‘same name’ thing sorted,” Lovett mumbles. Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Tommy asks, his cheeks now dark red. 

“Well, you like him, don’t you?”

“I…” Tommy trails off, so Lovett continues. 

“And, if I’m right about that book on your nightstand, he’s been leaving you flowers for weeks.”

“How - you know what, don’t answer that,” Tommy says, reaching for the book. He presses it tight in his hand, not bothering to open it. Lovett already knows what’s inside. 

“If you like him, do something about it.” Lovett says it like a challenge, and Tommy looks up at him to find his best friend smirking at him. 

“It’ll stop the parade of women you aren’t interested in. Besides, I think Hanna’s interested in one of the other gardeners.”

“How do you know all of this?” Tommy asks after a beat. Lovett shrugs. 

“Life’s quite boring. I like to stay informed.”

\--- 

Doing something about it isn’t so simple. Tommy threatens to banish Lovett during the planning process a total of seven times. 

In the end, Tommy comes up with the plan on his own, and while he keeps the majority of it to himself, he does ask Lovett to help him figure out the flowers in his book and give them names and meanings. By the time they’re done, Lovett’s planning a wedding date and Tommy’s red down to his chest. 

“He really knows his flower meanings, doesn’t he?” Lovett asks, fingers gentle on the pressed flowers on the desk. Tommy gently replaces the flowers in the book, now along with little notes, and uses the ribbon from the tulips to tie the book closed. He holds it up in front of his face and lets out a deep breath. 

“We have to find that guard,” he says, looking to Lovett. 

“You mean Dan? He’s friends with Jon, I’ve seen him helping Jon carry stuff from outside the castle.”

“You really are the best friend,” Tommy says, standing up and grabbing a coat. 

“Would you say that in front of a small crowd if I told you I am also friends with Dan, and know where to find him?” Lovett teases. Tommy nods his head emphatically. 

“A large crowd.”

\--- 

Handing the book off to Dan wasn’t as nerve wracking as Tommy thought it would be, especially after Dan looked at him with a knowing look and promised to get the book to its destination within the hour.

What’s truly got Tommy’s stomach in knots is the waiting. 

He sits in his window, feet hanging out into the breeze. He’s sent Lovett home, promising to tell him anything and everything in the morning when Lovett’s due to join them for the send off of Hanna. Tommy almost wants to go find her and thank her, as he has a feeling she’s also played a part in this sequence of events. She was as aware of his gazing into the garden as Lovett seems to have been. 

The only sound coming from the grounds is the ever trickling of the water fountain, still flowing in the dark. Since the garden isn’t in full bloom, there usually aren’t torches keeping the paths lit late into the night. Lovett had found two guards to rectify that for him, and Tommy can see the second the main gate opens. 

Jon gasps when he walks in, his eyes going wide at the sight of the torches. He looks around in amazement as Tommy slides out the window and lands softly on the ground. He’d seen just enough to know Jon’s holding the book in his hands. 

Tommy sits down on the edge of the fountain and waits as Jon wanders through the garden, his footfalls muffled in the dirt. Tommy can see him stop and fix a few new plants. When he finally walks around the corner to where Tommy’s sitting, his face is lit up with the widest smile Tommy’s ever seen. There’s a dimple in his left cheek and Tommy’s inside feel fluttery. 

“Did you do all of this?” Jon asks, voice soft in awe. He walks over and plops down on the fountains edge next to Tommy, looking up at the water. There’s two torches on either side of the fountain, reflecting the firelight brilliantly through the water. It plays shapes across Jon’s skin. 

“Yeah,” Tommy says as softly, watching Jon for a moment. He’s still looking at the water, but after a moment he seems to remember where he is. His cheeks pinken as he looks at Tommy. He lifts the book in his hands, gesturing vaguely in Tommy’s direction. 

“I… I got your notes,” Jon says, stumbling over his words. Tommy reaches out slowly and places his hand around Jon’s, watching Jon’s face for his reaction. His cheeks dimple as he smiles, the tips of his ears now pink in the firelight. Tommy gently pulls the book from Jon’s hands, letting his fingers linger. Jon’s skin is warm and Tommy has a feeling despite all of the gardening he does, they’ll feel smooth and soft against Tommy’s palm. 

“I had to look up all of the flower meanings,” Tommy says, opening the book to the first flower. Simple white clovers, to mean ‘thinking of you.’ They’d arrived the day after Tommy had turned down his second suitress. “You really know your stuff.”

Jon simply nods as Tommy turns the pages, looking at each of the flowers. Violets for loyalty and devotion. Lilacs for the first feelings of love. Lavender for devotion and grace. Yellow hyacinth’s for jealousy. Gardenia for secret love. Morning glory for affection. Lily of the valley for sweetness. All pressed and kept in Tommy’s favorite book. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says as Tommy closes the book, and Tommy furrows his brow. Jon frowns and looks down at his shoes. “I didn’t know how to approach you, and then one day I saw you in the window and Dan said it was your chambers, so he helped me climb up to put the white clovers on your desk.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Tommy asks, scooting a bit closer to Jon. Their knees touch, and Jon stares at them as he replies. 

“I broke into your room to leave you flowers,” he says with a laugh, looking up at Tommy as though he’s missing the point. Tommy simply shrugs. 

“You brought me flowers,” Tommy says simply, gesturing with the book. Jon smiles then, looking around as he sighs. 

“I thought you’d be angry with me about that,” Jon confesses, his shoulders slumping slightly. He straightens his back, squaring his shoulders, before he looks right at Tommy. His face breaks after only a few moments, and he bites his bottom lip. Tommy’s heart is fluttering wildly. 

“Angry? That a cute gardener was climbing into my room and leaving me love notes in the form of flowers?” Tommy laughs, placing the book down on the path to free up his hands. He reaches over and gently takes one of Jon’s hands, running his thumb across his knuckles. “I was right.”

“What?” Jon asks in response to Tommy’s mumbling. Moving closer again, Tommy slides their hands together, tangling their fingers. Jon’s hands shake slightly, but then he takes a deep breath. 

“Your hands are soft,” Tommy says, smiling at Jon. “And I could never be angry.”

“Even if I told you I’ve fancied you for years?”

“Have you?” Tommy asks, his turn to blush now. Jon nods, his fingers flexing against Tommy’s. 

“It was about five years ago, when I saw you in this garden as I helped my father with weeding,” Jon says, Tommy’s mind automatically doing the math. 

“I was fifteen and chubby,” Tommy says, to which Jon laughs. 

“You were quite cute,” Jon says softly, looking down at their hands. His ears are red again. Tommy’s chest aches at the sight. “Um, your note with the lilacs.”

Tommy doesn’t have to pick up the book to know what Jon’s talking about. He nods when Jon looks at him from under his eyebrows. Slowly, Jon lifts his head and, despite the fact that his hand is shaking again, looks right at Tommy. 

“You said you’re feeling it too,” Jon whispers softly, voice barely carrying over the fountain. But Tommy hears him. He nods. 

“I did.”

Jon looks at him for a long moment, eyes searching Tommy’s face. He still looks hesitant. Tommy smiles at him. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and he knows it’s the right thing to say when Jon’s face lights up again. Tommy leans in before Jon’s finished nodding. 

Giving into a desire he’s had for all of ten minutes, Tommy cups Jon’s cheek, feeling the spot his dimples hiding in. He can feel it a bit when Jon smiles into the kiss, and then they’re both smiling too much for their lips to meet. Jon’s let go of Tommy’s hand to grip his sides and he pulls at Tommy a bit before taking a deep breath and kissing Tommy. It’s exciting and warm, and Tommy’s insides shake when Jon’s fingers flex at his sides. He keeps his hands gentle on Jon’s jaw, his thumbs moving gently over the apples of Jon’s cheeks. Every touch of Jon’s lips to his feels like a shock, and Tommy pulls back after a minute to take a deep breath. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile,” Jon whispers against Tommy’s cheek. He ducks his head into Tommy’s neck, and Tommy’s stomach flips several times. 

“You have to stop saying things like that,” Tommy whispers, though he knows by the soft giggles against his neck, Jon’s not going to stop anytime soon. 

* * *

_ one year later. _

Tommy wakes with a deep breath, his brain swimming with the scent of the blooming climbing hydrangea outside their bedroom. He turns over and reaches out for the other side of the bed, his fingers finding skin easily. The offending sunlight that was pushing at his eyelids and woke him now warms his back as he curls up around Jon. 

“Good morning, my love,” Jon says softly, his voice still scratchy with sleep. Tommy buries his nose in the back of Jon’s neck, holding him tight. They’re both still tired from the late night before, a celebration for Emily and Hanna that went until nearly morning. Tommy’s not even sure if Lovett made it to a bed, or if he’s asleep somewhere on the grounds. Last Tommy had seen, he’d been flirting shamelessly with the son of Countess. 

“My beloved,” Tommy whispers, kissing any skin his lips can find. Jon shivers in his arms and presses back into his chest. Tommy smiles. 

“We need to sleep,” Jon whines, though he tilts his head and gives Tommy better access to his neck. “The Prince can’t look anything but Princely at the wedding of a friend.”

“You say that as though the Princes husband will let him leave his chambers without looking at his best,” Tommy mumbles, sucking on the skin of Jon’s shoulder. Jon whines again, shifting around until he flips entirely in Tommy’s arms. 

“We can’t be late to the ceremony,” Jon whispers even as he leans in to kiss Tommy. It doesn’t help that their both entirely naked beneath the covers, their legs tangled and chests sticking together with sweat. Jon loops his arm around Tommy’s waist, pulling him in tight. They groan into each other’s mouths and Tommy pulls back, chest heaving. He nudges his nose against Jon’s. Jon nudges back. 

“I promise we won’t be late,” Tommy says, reaching down below the covers to hike Jon’s leg up over his hip. 

“You - you said that and when we were late last night,” Jon aruges, voice quivering as Tommy pulls him closer. Tommy knows they’re both hanging on by a thread. 

“That was my fault, love, I wanted to make out in the garden,” Tommy whispers, kissing along Jon’s jaw. Jon sighs happily, smiling against Tommy’s cheek. He places his palm open on Tommys chest, fingers playing with the hair there. 

“And what are you going to tell Emily and Hanna when we’re late today?”

“A prince is never late.”

“Thomas.”

“I wanted to have adult relations with my husband.”

Jon sputters. “That’s not appropriate!”

“It’s why they were late to our wedding!” Tommy argues, and Jon laughs. They giggle together, the hazy morning sunshine setting everything aglow. Jon kisses Tommy again, a little more insistent. Tommy smiles. 

Emily and Hanna will understand. 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me @ theotherapps !!


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